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Perusing my FB page this morning, I came across a mindfulness program, which lasts a year, for $27 a month. There were great teachers in the program. If I was rich I might consider it. But I’m not. So I won’t buy it, though I did sign up for a free video.

I will though, try to focus on being more mindful. More present in the moment. More in tune to the world around me. Instead of spending a lot of time focusing on what I want it to be, I will try to accept it the way it is.

Now, acceptance and approval are two different things. I can still work for change, and I think right now it’s important to do that, with a mentally ill president and a bunch of fools around him buying into his power and control thing. But it’s like the riptide, you gotta swim with it, accepting that you are in a riptide, and then swim out of it. Fighting the fact that the riptide is what is, could kill you. It’s what Brene Brown calls “leaning into the discomfort.”

I have found myself so angry at what’s been going on. Angry enough it made me almost get into arguments with people who even agreed with me, because I felt they weren’t understanding it enough. And they were, they were as angry as me. It is easy to make that step, and it’s only a step, from anger to hate. And hate is never where I want to be.

So, first I must practice extending love. Teach with love, react with compassion. Find joy in the day even though. When I find myself ready to make that step from anger to hate, my foot poised above the step, I know then I have to take some time to myself, to remember who I am, what my purpose here is, and count my blessings. Again.

For instance, I read an article from the NYTimes, or maybe Washington Post, explaining how tRump and his policy wonks are gaslighting us. And I know they are, I have been gaslighted by my own husband and it’s terrifying when you realize someone is trying to make you feel crazy. Then I read another, from one of those two prestigious papers, telling how husbands are far more deadly than terrorists in this country.

And knowing that, I need to still find joy in the day. I sit on my sisters porch, I wave at her neighbors out for their morning walk. I listen to the birds, and smell the salt air, and feel the breeze gently caressing me. I have spent a week with my two sisters, and I know I am so blessed, there is so much to feel blessed about.

All I’m saying is, be mindful of your blessings, as well as of the things that need changing in this world. When it’s time to fight for the common good, fight. When it’s time to sit back and know the world is indeed a beautiful place, sit back and be grateful. Feel the gratitude for everything you can think of. Family, friends, the food in your fridge, the air you breathe. Gratitude.

I truly believe that love is the only power that can cure this world. Hate begets more hate, anger begets more anger, fear begets more fear. And love begets more love.

Like Marianne Williamson said, in The Return to Love, “We are not held back by the love we didn’t receive in the past, but by the love we’re not extending in the present.” I will try to mindfully react to things by extending love. More.

I just saw this on Facebook. It’s a post by my hero, Elizabeth Gilbert, on Truth, Lies and Kindness. BOY, does she nail it. Just nails it. As someone who has had my life turned upside down by the lies of others, and who has been attacked for my passion to have the truth out on the table, this was amazing to read. I was accused of wanting to play God, because I insisted that the truth be told. When, in reality, it was the liar that played God, manipulating me and others lives for their own benefit, with the most enormous pile of painful lies imaginable. Liz Gilbert explains my need, and my pain, and my truth better than I have ever been able to. Read on…..

Dear Ones –

The biggest emotional trouble I’ve ever gotten into in my life always stemmed from the same dilemma — when I was torn between telling the truth, and being kind.

Both matter immensely to me.

Both of these virtues (truth and kindness) are top-notch, A-grade, golden-ticket qualities, recognized by every human society in history as being essential for basic goodness.

I want to be unfailingly honest, but I want to be a REALLY NICE PERSON.

But here’s the thing: I’ve traditionally had trouble figuring out how to be both. Because sometimes the truth really hurts people, and I never want to hurt anybody. So — for most of my life — when I had to choose between truth and kindness, I always went with kindness. Because my need to not hurt people was bigger than my need to be truthful.

Also, isn’t it a fact that most people — no matter what they may claim — actually don’t really want you to tell them the truth? (Or so my reasoning went, anyhow.) As a Ethics Professor of mine taught me back in college: “Most of us grew up in families where our parents DEMANDED the truth, but they couldn’t DEAL WITH IT…and so we all learn how to lie.”

Didn’t the world teach you how to lie, too, in order to keep things peaceful and smooth? So aren’t you doing people a favor, when you them what they want to hear? Isn’t that nice of you?

No.

Here’s the thing I have finally learned, after years of struggling and suffering over this subject:

White lies are OK. Other lies are not.

There is such a thing as a harmless little white lie. The best anecdote I know about this came from President Jimmy Carter’s mother, who — when her son was running for president — was visited down in Georgia by a pushy New York journalist, who demanded to know, “Is it true that your son has never told a lie? Seriously? NEVER?” Mrs. Carter thought about it, and said “Well, Jimmy has told some white lies….” The journalist thought she had Mrs. Carter in trap and said, “Aha! But isn’t a white lie just a lie, all the same?” Mrs. Carter said, “No, white lies are harmless.” The journalist said, “Give me an example of a harmless white lie.” Mrs. Carter said, “Well…remember when you came into my house today, and I told you that it was very nice to meet you? THAT was a white lie…”

Mrs. Carter was correct: If you can’t tell little white lies sometimes in order to be polite to people, than you’re a sociopath and a jerk — so don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. Tell your neighbor that her cake was delicious — who cares? The world does not hinge upon such things, but it’s fine to be polite.

But this is not what we are talking about here.

We are talking about bigger moments, bigger lies, bigger truths.

There will be times in your life when people need to hear the truth from you — real truth, that will have real impact on their real existence — and when you decide “protect” that person with lies, then you are actually not protecting them at all. What you are doing is demeaning both them and you.

As that same Ethics Professor taught me, twenty-five years ago, “Whenever you lie to somebody about something that affects their life, you are manipulating that person and infantilizing them. By denying somebody essential information that they need in order to make intelligent decisions about their own future, you are effectively making all their decisions for them. There is no greater act of disrespect you could offer to an adult human than to make their choices for them, by lying to them, or by withholding essential information.”

Or, as my friend Martha Beck has taught me: “The truth is always an act of kindness, even when it seems like it will hurt. And a lie is always an act of unkindness, even when you believe you are being protective.”

For years, I told lies to people because I didn’t want to hurt them. Some of this was because I am “a nice person”, sure. But some of it was because I was “a scared person.” And some if it was because I was “a controlling person”. (Which isn’t very nice, when you really think about it.)

It took years of terrible consequences and suffering for me to realize that I wasn’t doing anybody any favors by hiding the truth from them, again and again. By lying to people out of kindness, I was being neither honest NOR kind. What I was practicing, in fact, is what the Buddhist call “Idiot Compassion” — which is when your cowardliness and your weak-heartedness makes you pity people instead of respecting them. Idiot compassion is what keeps people in relationships with abusers. (“Oh, he can’t help it! He had a hard childhood!”) Idiot compassion is what makes people engage in “pity sex”. Idiot compassion makes you cover for people, instead of challenging them. Idiot compassion is at the basis of all codependency. Idiot compassion makes you say yes when you need to say NO. Idiot compassion makes you easy to manipulate, but also makes you a serial manipulator — because you are always controlling people when you lie to them. Idiot compassion is called “idiot compassion” because it makes an idiot out of you, but it also makes an idiot out of your victim, because what you are offering is not protection, but patronization. By building a house of lies — no matter how pretty it may look from the outside — you are keeping everyone trapped.

As my friend Iyanla Vanzant says, “Respect people enough to tell them the truth.”

Respect yourself enough for that, too.

If there is one lesson I have FINALLY learned that has actually transformed my life, it is this: Whenever you are called to choose between truth and kindness, choose truth.

This is actually a sequel, I guess, to the narcissist post immediately preceding this post. In the same newsletter from Oprah.com there was this excerpt from Marianne Williamson’s book “From Tears to Triumph, The Spiritual Journey from Suffering to Enlightenment.”

So many people don’t understand how I can forgive my narc, how I can say I still love him, how I can wish good things for him. I think Marianne Williamson explains it here. My quest, my journey, has led me to believe in the power of unconditional love. I believe it is the only thing that can destroy the darkness in people, and the only way to raise the consciousness of all people, is for all of us to try to extend love whenever, wherever we can.

I know he was a classic narc. I know he’s not always happy about that. I know he finds himself in darkness so often, and can’t find a way out. I know he’s been fending for himself since he was tiny, and I know the pain he’s suffered. He’s a classic narc, whose narcissism grew out of some really horrible circumstances.

This article I just copied and will paste below one paragraph from, explains quite well where I am with my emotions for my narcissist. I think the book will probably be next on my booklist to read. I have always said that great beauty can be borne of great pain. I hope this can still be true for my narc at some point in his life, that he’s able to see the soul I’ve always seen and let it shine.

Here are Marianne’s words, with a link to the whole article if you’re interested. Love and light all.

“And that is the ultimate deliverance from suffering—the realization that we can be better people because of it. The spiritual journey from emotional pain to inner peace entails a transformation of our personalities, from being someone weakened by suffering to someone honed by it. Yes, we must look at the darkness within ourselves, and forgive others for the darkness that we see within them, in order to experience the miracle of love that only forgiveness brings. Yet, in so doing, we emerge victorious. And within that light, endless miracles abound. For miracles occur naturally as expressions of love. We grow less imprisoned by our fears as we release them to thoughts of love. No longer in denial about our issues, we atone and learn to forgive ourselves. No longer blaming others, we are able to forgive them. We experience a cosmic re-parenting from which we grow, at last, into the adults we were meant to be. This is the greatest story, the story of all stories, and it is the story of every one of us.”

So starts a new week. It’s suppose to be warmer this week, more normal spring temps. And sunnier. I’m excited about it. Shafts of sunlight are beginning to poke holes in the clouds.

I have a short work week this week, because my friend who lives in the Adirondack Mtns is coming to visit me for a few days. She’s coming Thursday, until Sunday or maybe Monday morning. I’m taking her to a gong bath Thursday night. Friday I’m going to take her to some incredible greeenhouses, full of tropical plants. It’s a place S took me on the last excursion we ever took, before she came back into his life. It’s got a 200 year old lemon tree in it, it has all kind of tropical plants. It is like walking into Jumanji. The plants are all over the place, on the ceiling, up the walls. It is warm, it smells like heaven. There are paths through the plants. They sell the plants but many people just go there to see them. They also have a huge herbal green house. My friend is an avid gardner, I know she will love it. It’s called Logees, and they have a great website and will ship plants everywhere, if you want to google them. We will get lunch somewhere along the way. Saturday we’re going to Newport. Not sure what she might want to do there, maybe see a mansion or two, maybe to the cliff walk past all the mansions if its a nice day. Maybe just shop, eat. It’s always fun, and beautiful there.

I’m really excited about all of it. Only working 3 days, seeing my friend, all the things we’re going to do.

I have a showing on my house today, so keeping my fingers crossed that they like the house better than the last people did. Have I mentioned that I am so ready to be living in Florida? LOL. My sis is going to the house today with a friend of hers. She’s going to get some more measurements for me, and check to make sure all the utilities are on. Probably wants to get lunch at our favorite sandwich shop there too, lol. She loves my little community.

Wishing all good things for all people today. The Buddhist Matta prayer…Love and light, all.

It seems that winter has hit the northeast USA today. It is cold, but not unseasonably so. It’s just hovering around freezing. But that’s the problem, it’s precipitating, and it’s sleet, not snow. Frozen pellets falling from the sky.

Thankfully, I don’t have to work. Thankfully it’s supposed to change to rain by late morning. However, I had a dental appointment at 8 AM for a crown, which I just canceled. To get there I have to drive over a huge hill, in some places it would be called a small mountain. And there are accidents galore on the highways this morning. I’m guessing that getting out of my driveway would be challenging. So, now I have to wait to get this crown done. I hope the tooth does not fall apart in the meantime.

I still am waiting to hear from the vet for an appointment for Maggie. I called them late last evening, so I’m guessing they will call back this morning.

So, I’m home for the morning anyway. I think I may make some jewelry. I have so many lovely stones I can wire-wrap. I need to use that part of my brain for awhile. It will refresh my outlook on things. Give me some perspective.

Tomorrow I’m going to see Joy with Jennifer Lawrence, Bradley Cooper, and Robert DeNiro with a few of my friends, and get a bite to eat. Looking forward to it. Although, I may have to take Maggie to the vet tomorrow also. If I don’t get an appointment tomorrow, I’ll have to wait til next week, I doubt that it would get done New Year’s Eve.

I did a guided meditation on Forgiveness this morning. I chose that one, because I felt I was slipping backwards a bit. I know from the experience with my ex-husband that the only way I can move forward and truly let go of the past is to forgive. I see my ex now as the flawed damaged person he is, who is still seeking the unconditional love, though he doesn’t believe in it, and in his damaged psyche, doesn’t believe he deserves it. Which is how, in my heart, I see Scott too.

I know too much about both men, I know what their lives were like as children, I know the struggles they went through. I know my ex’s from experience, from almost 40 years of living with his extended family and seeing the dysfunction in action. I know Scott’s experience from what he told me. I believe it to be true, because his actions, and his relationships with his sister and his mother bear the stories out.

When I know this, and see this, I have to feel compassion. I don’t have to feel love in the way that I did, I don’t have to want to be with them, but I have to feel compassion. I am just more comfortable that way.

I believed with Scott that if I loved him unconditionally, as he had never been, it would eventually bring him around. That was my Pollyanna side, because one person’s unconditional love for that time was not going to be enough to undo years of conditioning. It was my naivete. I was coming off of the power it had to give my son strength, but my son had my unconditional love for his whole life, and had a frame of reference. Scott had none, and so, had no reason to believe that it was real, that I was not just naive and stupid. In hindsight, he had affection for me, but it was very mixed with his own self-centered self-absorbed desires, and needs. He is a typical child of an abusive dysfunctional household.

My ex’s childhood was similar, with different twists. I know first hand how verbally and emotionally abusive his father could be, because I worked for him for 20 years, before we bought the business, and he visited it upon me a few times. I also know how his mother passively endorsed the abuse, while professing love for her children. It was not until I left that marriage that I learned about abuse, that I even realized there was a name for what I lived through. I found an online community of over 8000 members, and I remember reading their posts, thinking “Oh My God! There are OTHER people who have lived with this! There’s NAME for what he did to me!” I remained very active in that community for at least 5 years. I went in naive, I came out with an education. The friends I made there are still some of my closest friends. We still call on each other as our children deal with the repercussions of abuse.

Combine this education, with embarking on a spiritual path, to regain my sense of self, to rediscover who I was when I left my marriage. Because when you live with abuse, you end up spending 24/7 just trying to keep the peace. Just trying to stay a step ahead of the abuser, to protect yourself and your kids. You try to become what they want, so they will be happy. Of course, they always change what they want, the minute you achieve it, so that you never know what’s going to come at you. A true honest mind-fuck of the first degree.

I began to recognize the same pattern with Scott, with his push pull game. The same thing, in a different form. Which is why I kept trying to break up with him, but was unable to let go. Until, it’s all I could do to save myself.

I cleansed my pendulums this morning with white sage and asked some very pointed questions. I got what I believe are real answers, and I’m going to try to follow the path that they put me on. They were questions and answers about dealing with these issues with compassion. Both men and the issues still come into my head way too much, and I don’t want to fear them, I don’t want to hate them, I don’t want to feel angry.

There was something for me to learn in both situations, and I think, something for me to teach. If the student refuses the lesson, that’s not my problem. I think I’ve learned mine. I’m open to them, and to any that are still hanging out there for me to learn.

I sense that my ex has been humbled. Not completely, but he is sounding more like he’s reaching out, that he misses having some communication with someone who knows him. That’s a good thing. I won’t get caught in his web again, but it’s possible that now that he’s lost everything, and I mean everything….he can be a little vulnerable, because he has nothing to lose and everything to gain. I’m not jumping in, but neither will I be afraid to communicate with him.

Scott, I don’t sense much from. I think he’s closed whatever small opening he had in his heart that would have allowed love to enter and to extend from him. I do sense though, that perhaps he’s doing what I suggested, and taking some time to re-evaluate the way he lives. He’s not doing this because I suggested it, he’s doing it because in his mind he’s lost everything too. He’s heading into his final years, when he should be retiring, and enjoying life with people he loves, but he’s all alone. His ploy to keep people in his life based on deception didn’t work. So I hope he’s going to go within, and try to find his own light. I still can see that soul, I still can see his light. I have been on an emotional roller coaster with my feelings for him: love, hate, anger, compassion, longing, repulsion…..

At the end of the day, I have to go with compassion, because it’s my comfort zone. It’s what I believe in my heart to be the only way to move forward. My pendulums seem to concur with that.

One thing I learned in the abuse community was that hurt people hurt people. I am no exception. When each of these men hurt me, I hurt them back. My words with Scott, while true….were scathing. My actions with my ex, while necessary for my survival and my son’s, blindsided him. I make no apologies, really, because Scott devastated me, I had to release that pain. My ex was on a quest to steal my soul…my son…my breath. If I didn’t leave him we both would have died, literally…because the dysfunction was truly affecting our health. My son would have never seen that there is a different way to live, he would have been doomed to repeat what he did not understand.

Lord, I did not expect this blog to go here. But it did, and that’s the reason I write mostly. To work things out, to express things that I am trying to understand, and in the expression to find the understanding. If you made it this far, thank you.

A….just always there for me. I don’t know why, I just don’t have any idea why but he is. It choked me up all day.

He got my message, and his response was….

“Good morning, my love.”

No chastising me. No questions. No anger. Nothing, but unconditional love.

I wished he were here with me. I wished we were snuggling, sharing a cup of coffee, talking, anything. I do love him, really….but I can’t sustain that. And I don’t know why. Before, it was because of Scott. It’s not him, now. But I think it might be repercussions of him.

Because I got so triggered this past weekend, and by A, the gentlest, most loving of souls….I have to say, I’m not relationship material yet. I’m ok on the surface, but there’s still a lot of grief, loss, sadness, anger running like a riptide underneath, and at any moment, it might sweep me out to sea and risk drowning anyone who is with me. And it’s A who has been by my side.

He hated Scott for me when I could not, lol. He brought me around to feel sorry for him, when the depth of his depravity was uncovered, he was the first to say, “I just went from hate to pity. He needs our prayers…” Because S’s actions absolutely indicated a deep and terrible illness. And even A, who has played 2nd fiddle to S for months, when I couldn’t let go….can see it, and offer up his compassion.

I love A, and I want him in my life.

But I’m not consistent. This morning I was gonna try to Facetime him when I got home but tonight, I don’t feel it so much. I really scared myself, realizing that I almost kicked him out of my life. God, stupid. This morning, I felt jealous of the woman in Santa Fe….and tonight, I am back to where I was. I can’t be what he needs and deserves. But I want him in my life, for sure.

I was still triggered today. I imagined talking to S….what would we possibly have to say? “Why did you do that?” He won’t know, or won’t say. He’d ask “Why did you tell her….” Because she had to know. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. You were never gonna tell her the truth, I was going to remain a lie somewhere there. I’m sick of being a lie, and a secret. And you would have made me stay that way, and she would have never known the truth. I fucking loved you, and I wanted to make sure she knew that. That I didn’t just fuck you, that I LOVED you with every fiber of my being. That you were trying to be with me just days before. That I wasn’t what you wanted her to think I was. I was not going to be minimized by you and your narcissism.

You didn’t want to save her pain, you wanted to continue to manipulate her feelings, her love, her emotions. Just like you did me, but I found out the truth.

So….what would he and I have to say? Nothing. Nothing, except I loved you, you tried to kill me. I don’t know when my heart will ever open up again. When I will trust someone again. It was not that you were with her that hurt so much, it was the lies, the cruelty of every thing you did after 10:30 on October 3. All the voice mails, all the texts, all the sexting, the phone calls, you tried to keep me hanging on while you were with her. Cruel. Why couldn’t you just let me go? Why couldn’t you let me go when you came to the park back in May, and told me you wanted to be by yourself. Why didn’t you just stick with it? Instead of asking me to come over? Instead of calling me and telling me you should have come to Florida with me? Instead of coming here and making sweet love with me?

It’s the loss, of finding out that who I thought you were and adored was some shell you put on for me. I had to give you up, and then I had to GIVE YOU UP…because you didn’t even exist. I fucking miss that man who doesn’t exist. And I grieve for him.

What would I have to say? Nothing, that could lead to anything but to bring back the pain.

So I almost pushed Addie away today, because the ghost man that I loved hurt me so much that what he did still, 3 1/2 months later, can stab me in the back when I’m just out for a stroll.

I was drowning this weekend. Today I managed to get to shore, but I’m tired, out of breath, and traumatized. I need to do what A wants me to, to “rest in his love.” And I will. And S….I’m pretty sure he’ll be alone. Which is the safest place for everyone else.

I did a meditation this morning on releasing the past. Bits and pieces of memories still pop up from time to time, usually first thing in the morning, and I ask the universe, why? He just so didn’t have to do that to me.

So, I’m trying to just find a way to let those memories come and go, and not unpack and take up a room in my psyche. The guide in the meditation suggested re-framing those things, realizing that people who did things that hurt us were acting from their level of consciousness at the time. Brene Brown, in her book Rising Strong, has a whole chapter on the debate as to whether or not people are doing the best they can.

When I went to the wedding in VA, a couple of weeks after I was devastated by S, I read that chapter of Brene’s book on the plane. I had to stop reading, when I read that, and hugged the book to me and looked out the window, tears in my eyes. I sent him a text, when the plane landed, and told him that I knew he was doing the best he could. And so was I.

But that was before I found out that he’d been lying to me all summer. That’s when I thought they had just gotten back together the weekend he dumped me.

Now I ask, do I have to still accept that he was doing the best he could?

Do I have to accept that when he would tell me he wanted to be alone, that he didn’t want a loving relationship right now, he wanted to find himself, all the while the truth having been that he was seeing Betty Boop on the weekend, that he was doing the best that he could? When I would tell him to let me go, and he would ask me not to go, when he would tell me how he missed me, and come to see me, all the while lying to me, and to her, was he doing the best he could?

Do I have to accept that?

It seems naive. It seems false. He knew neither of us would share him, if we knew. And he played us both to keep us in his life. He played me harder than her, because she had no idea he was doing anything other than spending Saturday night with her. She had no desires that weren’t getting met, she had no longing he wasn’t fulfilling. I had them every day, and every day I had to hear what I now know was another lie as to why he wasn’t available. I was far more work…and got far less.

But back to the question, was he doing the best he could?

I wish I could say yes. I wish I could say yes, and just forgive it and move on from it. Sometimes I can. More and more of the time. But sometimes I say, this is a smart man. It was one of the things I loved about him, was how smart he was, how he could discuss almost anything, could solve problems, could fix things. This is a man with whom I was so clear…he would get aggravated with me for saying the same thing over and over in a million different ways to make sure he understood me. I never wanted to hear from him, or another man, that they didn’t know how I felt. He knew, unequivocally, how I felt. And how Betty felt for that matter. At least, that’s what he told me back at the beginning of our relationship, that she had told him that she wouldn’t tolerate him cheating on her.

Was he doing the best he could? God, I hope not. I hope he knows better than to treat people he loves in that way. There was no honor, no respect, not even a tiny bit of love for either of us, in his actions. It was just self-serving, it was stealing our love, and our energy, to fill his holes.

Perhaps therein lies the problem. His holes. He has so many….and I knew of them. He told me. He told me so many things, of his past. Things that were horrible, that he lived through. That he did. Things that he swore he’d never told another soul, and didn’t know why he was telling me. I still will hold his confidence, and never tell a soul those things. I never judged him for any of it. It was all in the past, way past, and I always felt that his experiences made him into the man I loved. Let me say, though, that the knowledge of these things, allowed me to always see his inner child, the one who just wanted to be loved like all children do. I gave him an inner child crystal early in our relationship, after he told me some of these things, which he used to keep next to his bed. When we broke up over the prison whore, I think it was, he threw it into the river near his house.

I suppose it doesn’t matter how smart he is. I suppose that what happened to him, and the way he acted out on it in his lifetime don’t have anything to do with his ability to solve problems, and do the work he does. Emotionally, with me and Betty, he was doing the best he could. He had two women who loved him the way he always wanted to be loved, unconditionally. Although, I can’t speak for her. I can only speak for me. He didn’t want to lose that, but he knew he couldn’t keep us both if we knew about the other. He lied and lied, to create a false world, a different world for each of us, so we would stay in his life, and continue to love him. Fear…of losing what felt so good to him. What is not love, is fear.

The answer is, yes, I guess he was doing the best he could. The best he could was destined to eventually blow up in his face. And mine. And hers. It was destined to absolutely devastate me. I assume it did Betty also. I think it has more than anything devastated S, because he now has neither of us (unless Betty has forgiven him, but I kinda don’t think that’s happened….) and has none of that unconditional love that he had.

If he had been honest with me in the beginning, when he began the song and dance about wanting to be alone, we would still be friends. If he had just told me that then they had talked and he really wanted to see if they had a future. That he still had a lot of feelings for her. If he had just been honest. We would still be talking. The hurt would have just been hurt, it never would have turned to anger, it never had to affect Betty at all.

I told him, so many times, that I would always love him. That the love I gave to him he could take to the grave with him. My heart still aches for that child, the one who steered the riverboat right into the deep and was lost. My heart also sees the grown man, who denied the light, who fought for the darkness, who chose to allow his darkness to hurt people who loved him. That was a choice. No matter what he felt emotionally, he knew it was wrong. He should have made another choice.

He can’t undo what he has done. He can only make different choices going forward. As can I. I have to, as the meditation suggested, re-frame his actions, realizing that what he did reflected his level of consciousness at that time. The pain is down to the level of a thorn stuck in my thumb every once in awhile, that needs extracting. I keep wondering why I keep grabbing the thornbush, and don’t just walk away from it.

I’ll attempt to do that, so that I can fully let it go, with love and light. I can wish for him, that in his final years, he will welcome the light that I always saw in him, that he will learn to love himself enough to make himself proud from here on out. To make decisions that he can live with, to be honorable, because I know right now, he’s having a hard time living with what he did to us.